Harry Potter and the Ancient's Strength
by craziest1
Summary: Harry Potter is not complete. He hasn't been since the age of one. Find out how his past can change his future. Crossover with SG1.
1. Unhappy in Paradise

AN: This is my first fic. I'm happy for constructive criticism (in fact I welcome it because it makes me better as a writer) but keep it clean.

Ascension was a very strange concept. Being able to see everything, yet being blind. Knowing everything, yet being ignorant. For some it was just simply unbearable. For others, it was the rules. Yes, even those on higher planes have rules that seem overly controlling, and for a recently ascended being (a young man) this was definitely the case. His home was destroyed by parasitic beings known as the Goa'uld. He tried to interfere, and strike down this menace, but the all-seeing 'Others' held him back.

Over the centuries, the being grew jaded to his fellows, and planned in secret to once again take human form, keeping all of his ascended knowledge. He stored all of his knowledge in a computer system on a planet outside of the Stargate network (built by his peers before their ascension). There was a problem to this, however: How to reach the planet without a wormhole? He knew that the Others would stop him if he used an Alterran vessel. His answer: a small Tel'Tak, equipped with a modified hyperdrive and large amounts of food and drink for the trip.

There was another problem also. The immense knowledge of the Alterrans (the name of the other ascended before their ascension) was too massive for any human brain. He would have to adapt his new body, but how?

The idea struck him whilst watching the humans of Earth. The were able to use what they called magic to better themselves and make their lives easier just by waving a stick of wood. Therefore, why couldn't he use this magic to enlarge his brain? Simple sounding, but it took him an entire century to discover how to safely enlarge the brain.

The time had come. He'd planted the ship in a place abandoned for centuries: The Chamber of Secrets. He also made sure to leave a memory in his new body to be able to find the ship and have the knowledge needed for the enlargement of his new brain.

Whilst on the subject of adapting his body, he make his new body immune to the soul repelling methods that the ascended used to remove those unworthy of ascension, or those that did not follow the rules.

He saw a young couple fresh out of school. Their names were Lily and James Potter. More importantly, they had the recessive gene required for the operation of Ancient (Alterran) technology. This meant that, with a slight interference, he would have everything he needed.

It was time. He drew his power for one last time in the higher realm, said a silent goodbye to those likeminded, and then he was no more.

At that exact moment, Harry James Potter was born. "Lily!" The new father cried. "It's a boy! Sirius! Remus! Peter! Come in! I'm a Dad!"

"You know, Prongs, we'd never have guessed" Teased Sirius.

"Yeah" agreed Remus "I think they heard you over in the Dai Llewellyn ward."

"Yeah" Peter reiterated, trying to insert himself "'cause the Dai Llewellyn ward's all the way over there." Here he pointed towards the back of the room.

"I think you'll find, Pete, that the Dangerous Dai ward's actually over there." Lily interjected, pointing in the opposite direction. And looking to the others, "Besides, don't you want to see your Godson?"

"Why didn't you say so sooner, Lils?" Sirius remarked, grinning from ear to ear. "Well, pass him here then."

Lily handed the small child over carefully to the man, as if afraid to let him go. "Don't drop him, Sirius." She warned.

"As if I would." And it was true. Sirius was enraptured by his Godson. "We're going to look after you, Little Harry." He whispered to the bundle in his arms. "And we'll always be there."

The Dark Lord approached the hollow with a smirk upon his face. 'Now if I can remove both the prophecy boys, I'll be free to get rid of Dumbledore once and for all. The worm had been so easy to convince. All he'd had to do was give the weak fool one bag of gold and he'd betrayed the Potters quicker than you could say 'Crucio'.

He approached the spot where he knew the house to be, thinking of the secret. 'The Potters hide at Godric's Hollow.' He repeated it as if a mantra and then, all of a sudden, the homely house appeared.

"Lily, He's here! Take Harry and run!" James felt the house appear and knew. It was over.

Voldemort didn't waste time with words. He instantly flung a cutting curse at the elder Potter. James dived out of the way, not recognising the brown vapour, and returned with a silent Blasting curse. The Dark Lord put up a shield, laughing.

"Is that the best you can do?" He sneered "Then I should end this farce of a duel. Avada Kedavra!"

James summoned a chair into the path of the lethal curse. "If you think I'm letting a creature like you get to my wife and son then you've got another thing coming. Silpormo!" Voldemort erected another shield, and as the curse impacted it created a resounding Boom.

"I see the aurors actually teach at their academy. Think, Potter, what would be possible if you joined me? I might even find it within myself to save your wife."

"But not my son? Oh, no, I forgot. He's the one who's going to bring you down, isn't he? Ha. The almighty Dark Lord brought down by a child. The Prophet'll have a field day with that." The taunts fuelled the Dark Lord's anger.

"You'll pay for that." He snarled "Crucio!" The pain curse broke through the young auror's shield, bringing him to his knees. "I grow bored of you. Avada Kedavra!" James came out of his pain filled delirium for long enough to see the pulsing green light of the unblockable curse coming towards him.

'Well, at least I held him off for a while. Maybe Lily got out.' He closed his eyes, bringing a peaceful expression to his handsome features in the last seconds of his life.

And then James Potter was dead. Leaving Voldemort again unimpeded.

Again the Dark Lord wasted no time. He bounded up the small flight of stairs, following the young mother. He entered the nursery on the information from his spy and found them. She was gripping a small necklace with all of her strength. Again his spy was right; the necklace was a voice activated Portkey, a gift from Dumbledore in case of a breach in the wards. This had led Voldemort to creating temporary Anti-Portkey wards.

Finally, she noticed him. She fell to her knees, hiding her son behind her. "Not Harry! Not Harry! Please – I'll do anything –"

"Stand aside – Stand aside, Girl – You don't need to die here today. Just let me have the Boy and I'll leave."

"Never." She shot a weak stunning charm at the Dark Lord but it was absorbed into his robes.

"You're even weaker than your husband, girl. Avada Kedavra!" Lily stood in her place; she knew that if she moved then the curse would hit her son, and, as she told Voldemort, she would never let that happen.

"Goodbye, my son, James. I'll see you both in the next life."

As she fell the child began to cry. Voldemort spared no time for pity and instantly launched a killing curse towards the third and final member of the family. The curse stuck the unsuspecting child and Voldemort allowed himself a small sigh of relief. 'One down, one to go.' He thought. But the last potter was not dead yet, and his body began to pulse with a blinding white light, prompting the Dark Lord to turn away to protect his eyes.

As the light gathered in the large room Voldemort erected a powerful shield, but it was to no avail. The light merely passed through it and struck the Dark Lord. He was instantly struck by the strongest and most complete feeling of pain he had ever experienced. His life flashed before his eyes and he lamented the fact that he was so close, yet so far from achieving his ultimate goal.

Voldemort's body began to smoke and he let out an unholy scream of pure terror as his body was destroyed. In seconds he was left as a spectre. And with another unholy scream, he flew.

Immense levels of stress and danger can sometimes cause memory repression. This is exactly what happened to young Harry. For any normal child this would not be a problem, seeing as nothing life changing (that they can comprehend) would happen before the age of at least four. But alas, Harry is no ordinary boy and his memories would lay dormant for a very long time.


	2. Simple Summer

As previously stated, Harry Potter is no normal boy. How, as a matter of fact, would a wizard be considered normal? But this was the least of Harry's worries at the moment, for his Godfather (the wanted criminal Sirius Black) recently died. Not at the hands of Law Enforcement as one would suspect, but at the hands of his own cousin – a follower of Voldemort.

Harry, as all teenagers do, was currently reflecting on his purpose in this world. But this is where the similarities began to crumble. Harry Potter had a clear purpose - or at least as clear as prophecy can be. - Kill the Dark Lord, or die. He knew he couldn't at the moment but this was another thing he was thinking on:

How to train? Should he wait until Hogwarts and use the Restricted Section or should he go to Diagon Alley and hope that there was something in Flourish and Blotts that could help? He knew in his heart that the second was a bad idea, because of the fact that if any self-respecting dark wizard saw him, they'd kill him on sight.

There was another problem: Harry was bored. He'd no homework and a threat from the Order had made the Dursleys too terrified to even speak to him, let alone ask him to do chores.

He also noticed that for one of the first times he was allowed to keep his school trunk (containing many wizarding items) in his cramped room. He even had his school books…

It was as if a light had flicked on within his head; surely learning the basics would make it much easier to learn the harder stuff!

Harry stood, as if with new life, and gathered a defence book in order to ease himself into his new plan.

Three weeks later and Harry was bored once again. He had exhausted his supply of books and lay on his bed, reflecting on his newfound knowledge, marvelling at how much he had missed during his five years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was no wonder how Hermione had seemed so knowledgeable with the sheer amount of magic that had not been covered by the professors. It was obvious that they hadn't had time to teach the full book, so they'd just left the students to their own devices. It seemed very brutal, but it made it easy to see who was motivated and who wasn't.

His sixteenth birthday was the next day. He knew that on that day he would receive his OWL result. He idly wondered if it would be possible to retake some exams, due to his new knowledge. Well it was all relative until he got the results, so he decided to reconvene this thought tomorrow.

Following a burgeoning tradition for the young wizard, he awoke at midnight to the sound of tapping on his window. He rose slowly from the small bed brushing the sleep from his eyes. Realisation dawning on him: Harry Potter was sixteen! He stepped cautiously over the moonlit floor, walking towards the window. He saw three owls at the window. Two he recognised as belonging to the Weasleys, the smallest (Pigwidgeon) belonged to his friend Ron, the other was the family owl, Errol. That left only one more. 'It must be from Hogwarts' thought Harry. 'I can finally find out how I did on the OWLs!' This was the first owl he unloaded, releasing the bird out of the window to return to the castle from whence it came.

The letter was swiftly ripped open and Harry discarded the booklist, choosing instead to focus upon the regal purple slip of parchment.

_OWL results for Harry James Potter._

_Mr. Potter,_

_I hope that this letter meets you well and I congratulate you on your fine results._

_Madam Marchbanks (Head of Wizarding Examinations)_

_Defence Against The Dark Arts – O_

_Charms – E_

_Transfiguration – E_

_Potions – A_

_Astronomy – A_

_Herbology – E_

_Care of Magical Creatures – E_

_History of Magic – P_

_Divination – D_

_Any pupils will be able to retake an examination if they are able to provide sufficient proof that they can achieve higher than their current result. An owl must be sent to the Department of Magical Examinations before the 5th August because the retakes will be held throughout the 3rd week in August, and we wish to give candidates an appropriate amount of time for preparation._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Madam Marchbanks (Head of Wizarding Examinations)_

Harry was ecstatic with his results. An O in Defence! He was slightly disappointed with his potions grade, but that could always be retaken, he did have five days left to decide if he wanted to put up with further abuse from Snape.

He was brought out of his musings by a loud hoot from his owl, Hedwig. "Hedwig, shush! You don't want to wake the Dursley's, do you, Girl?" He saw the source of her ire. Piqwidgeon was trying to force his small head through the bars of the larger owl's cage to pilfer some of her water. "Pig, here! Now!"

The small bird trotted over, allowing the boy to take the attached gifts. "I can't believe I almost forgot about Ron and Hermione!" he chuckled. Earlier, he'd noticed two parcels on the owl, leading him to deduce that Hermione was most likely staying with Ron. He opened Ron's letter first and was greeted by the messy scrawl of his best friend.

_Hi Harry!_

_Can't say much, you know why. We're at the same place as last year and some old friends might be along to pick you up next week._

_Enjoy the present,_

_Ron_

Harry wasn't surprised with the length of the letter. He hadn't had many letters this summer, and the ones he had received were very similar in size and content.

He shook his head to clear himself and soon moved over to the shoddily wrapped gift. He tore off the wrappings in an instant, and saw that, for once, Ron had sent a book. He looked at the title and saw the reason why: it was a Quidditch book, '_101 scarily strange seeker moves and how to use them to win the cup'. _He sat the book down with a half-smile and grabbed Hermione's letter.

_Hi Harry,_

_How are you? Are the Dursleys treating you well? If not, tell our 'friends' and they can sort it out like at the train station. _

_Have you got your owls yet? I expect to get mine next week. When you get them write me, I really want to see how you did._

_See you soon,_

_Hermione_

Another short letter, but there was still more to it than Ron's. He tossed away the letter and opened the gift. It was book shaped (as was normal for Hermione) and Harry eagerly tore of the wrappings for a better look. It was, as he had thought, a book, but Hermione had surpassed herself with this. It was a book with no title or author and Harry found himself wondering what it was. The only thing he'd seen that was remotely like was it the Restricted Section at Hogwarts, but Hermione wouldn't send a Dark book. Harry laughed at the very thought. He was still slightly wary of touching it, but his trust for Hermione overwhelmed the fear and he opened the book. Inside there was a small note, he unfolded it and began to read…

_Harry,_

_I know you must be surprised by this, but hear me out before burning it. How can you fight if you don't know what you're fighting? I don't expect you to learn the Dark Arts (it would horrify me if you did) but you need to know how to counter them._

_It struck me just how unprepared we were in the DOM so I went looking around for some stronger defences in the library where I'm staying (same place as last year) and I found this, had a short read and decided that you'd be able to do better with it than me. All I ask is that you can teach us (the DA) what you've learned when we get back to school._

_Good luck,_

_Hermione_

Harry was flabbergasted. He had no idea that Hermione would send a Dark Arts book! He thought for a minute and found that she was right. How would he fight Voldemort without knowing what he was up against? It was doubly important now that he knew of the prophecy.

He decided to draft his replies to Ron and Hermione before reading the Hogwarts letter.

_Ron,_

_When next week? I need to know so I can pack my trunk. Thanks for the book, when I first saw it I was a bit shocked. Why would you send me a book? But then I saw it's about Quidditch. Maybe I can use some of the plays next year (if I'm allowed back on the team). _

_How did you do on the OWLs? I did quite well._

_Defence Against The Dark Arts – O_

_Charms – E_

_Transfiguration – E_

_Potions – A_

_Astronomy – A_

_Herbology – E_

_Care of Magical Creatures – E_

_History of Magic – P_

_Divination – D_

_Divination's no surprise; Trelawney and Firenze were both useless!_

_See you soon (hopefully),_

_Harry_

_Hermione,_

_I'm doing quite well, considering. I've been reading my school books to keep busy and you never know, maybe there is something useful in there after all. And yes, the Dursleys are OK. They're ignoring me in fear of the 'freaks' from the train station. I got my OWLs today. I did well enough, here are the scores:_

_Defence Against The Dark Arts – O_

_Charms – E_

_Transfiguration – E_

_Potions – A_

_Astronomy – A_

_Herbology – E_

_Care of Magical Creatures – E_

_History of Magic – P_

_Divination – D_

_I'm not surprised about Divination, History or Astronomy, but I wish I'd done better in Potions. I might retake it, but that would mean having Snape for another two years. He'd probably hate me even more just for that._

_Thanks for the book. I read your letter carefully and I do realise that it could come in useful to know what I'm fighting, but it just seems so wrong to use Dark Arts._

_Your friend,_

_Harry_

With a smile on his face that was threatening to burst his cheeks, he settled down to bed for the night, sleeping peacefully until 12 o'clock the next day.


	3. A trip to the Doghouse

Harry waited every day for the next week trying to find out when he would be freed from the confining prison that was the Dursley home. By the end of the week Harry was almost ready to scream in frustration due to the sheer boredom of the lack of chores and reading material when, during a third idle perusal of his fifth year charms text, he heard three small pops in quick succession. He quickly slammed the boring text closed and palmed his wand into his hand, it was always somewhere on his person, Harry not wishing to be caught unawares, and stalked down the hall to the point of the disturbance.

There was a crash downstairs and a loud curse, "Sorry 'bout that, so, where is he, Mad-Eye?" a slightly girlish voice asked. That would be Tonks, the clumsy metamorphmagus who was injured in the Department of Mysteries just a month ago. Harry wondered if she was badly hurt, but given the racket she was making it was quite unlikely.

"If yeh'd shut up for a minute I'd tell yeh," was the growled reply. Definitely Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody, the paranoid ex-Auror who could see through invisibility cloaks, walls and even the back of his own head.

Harry stood sharply, but quickly lowered himself into a crouch. He'd already seen what polyjuice could do. He didn't want to take chances, even if they did seem to be the two Aurors. He hadn't heard the third yet, so he resolved to keep an ear out.

"'E's in 'is room. Surely yeh know where that is," Mad-eye sniped.

"Seeing as I helped to get him out of this hellhole last year, yeah, funnily enough I do know where his room is. Unless of course your old brain forgets these sorts of details, Mad-eye," Mad-eye groaned silently in annoyance. She giggled softly as he stared stonily at the younger Auror. Tonks had been teasing him about his age for a month now, and it was beginning to grate on his nerves.

It was very lucky that the Dursleys were not at home, Harry mused, due to the fact that the disturbance outside would have caused a multitude of shouting, cursing and maybe even cursed Dursleys. Grinning at the thought he focused again, hearing another series of crashes and thumps on the landing. Hearing a muffled '_Reparo_', he slowly turned the door handle, his wand at the ready and thoughts of Hermione's gift running through his mind.

"What's the address of Padfoot's old house?" He questioned, his eyes glinting in a suspicious way. The two Aurors jumped sharply.

"Blimey Harry!" The Metamorph replied. "Why'd you do that? Almost gave me a heart-attack."

"What's the address?" the Boy wizard repeated, with a stony visage upon his otherwise kind face.

"Not telling yeh tha'," was the gruff reply, "what if yeh've kidnapped Potter an' are just waiting for us te give away important information?"

Harry thought about it a moment and decided to go a different route, "Nymphadora, what face reminds me of my cousin?"

The Auror scowled at the hated name and scrunched up her face. Within seconds it contorted into a visage similar to that of a pig.

Mad-Eye then pushed her out of the way, aside her squawk of indignation, and shot off several rapid fire questions about Harry that he struggled to keep up with but was eventually rewarded with a less suspicious glare and Mad-Eye's wand out of his face.

Harry laughed and lowered his wand, placing it back into the waistline of his jeans. That, at least, was something that couldn't be faked.

"Wotcher Tonks, Mad-eye. Who's the third? I heard three apparitions."

"Wotcher, Harry," the Metamorphmagus replied "the third was Kingsley; he's 'securing the perimeter'," she mimicked the latter part of the sentence in a perfect impression of the rumbling voice of the black Auror, causing Harry to chuckle under his breath.

Harry, still snickering lightly, asked, "How are we getting to Headquarters? My broom's still at Hogwarts."

"Dumbledore got us a Portkey this time," she replied, "saves us freezing while we fly there, even if I do always fall over."

"Grab hold then, Boy," Mad-eye rumbled, holding out a bright yellow and green, striped sock, "let's get going. I don't feel like staying in this hole all day."

"Me neither," Harry replied, quietly acquiescing and grabbing the eclectic sock that was either made by Dobby or belonged to the venerated old Headmaster. 'Probably both,' he thought in amusement.

"Good. Oi, Kingsley, hurry up!" she hollered, prompting the return of the Auror Captain.

"No need to shout, Tonks," the man said, arriving in the pristine kitchen in record time, "Did I miss anything?"

"No. Just the usual: Harry making sure we're us; There was me thinking we only got that from this old goat," She said, gesturing to the bristling man next to her.

"Say that again, Rookie. I dare yeh," he replied, rising to the taunt. His eyes glinted as he threatened the younger of the two.

"Now now, no need to fight," Kingsley intoned, looking to derail the coming confrontation. "Ok, everybody ready?" he asked, waiting for their nods and, grabbing hold of the Portkey himself, he spoke the activation phrase, "Lemon Drop".

The foursome arrived in the gloomy hall of the Black manor with a crash. Tonks and Harry, as per normal fell to the ground, and due to being connected to Mad-eye and Kingsley by means of the sock, the others fell also.

Harry looked out from his slightly claustrophobic position on the dusty floor and saw the dark interior of the stained house. The Order and Molly Weasley had obviously had very little chance to clean through the past year.

So it was a curious site that the matron of the Weasley family walked into, with three Order members and her surrogate son piled up in a tangled heap in the middle of the floor.

Harry was the first to notice the podgy woman's stare and attempted to speak. "Hello, Mrs. Weasley," which came out slightly muffled due to the fact that his face was being squashed into the ground.

"Harry, you poor dear, let's get you up," she screeched, running over and pulling him from under Shacklebolt while simultaneously trying to hug the life out of him.

"I'm fine, Mrs. Weasley," he tried to assure, shaking her away, but the woman would not listen and turned her attention towards the guards.

"Kingsley, Mad-eye, Tonks, I expected better of you. Collapsing on the poor boy like that; who knows how he's feeling and you go and do that."

"Molly…" Kingsley began, only to be interrupted by Tonks.

"So it's our fault we can't land?' Tonks exclaimed, an undertone of bitterness in her voice which took on a self-loathing tone as she finished, 'For your information, it was partly Harry's fault that we got into this mess. But if you want someone to blame, then blame me. I'm the clumsy one. I can't seem to do anything right here," and with that bitter statement, she stomped moodily out of the ancestral Black house, leaving Harry and Kingsley to stare after her regretfully.

Molly Weasley was left quite shocked by the outburst, and tried to defend her point. "What did I say?" she asked, rhetorically.

"Nymphadora is having some problems at the moment, Molly," a new voice intervened, one that was easily recognisable as belonging to the most respected wizard in Britain: Albus Dumbledore. He steeped out from the shadows looking as vibrant as ever in lurid purple robes. "Harry, may we speak for a moment?"

"Of course, Professor," the boy wizard said with barely concealed venom Dumbledore's eyebrows raised at the confrontational tone, but said nothing as they stepped silently into an unused side-room. Harry still wanted to scream and rage at him about the prophecy and Sirius, but he didn't know how to do so without looking like a child in front of the other Order of the Phoenix members.

The room they entered was covered in dust and cobwebs. Dumbledore raised his wand and pointed it at the door, mumbling a few words under his breath. Harry paused a moment before picking up a small piece of jewellery and throwing it at the door. It bounced away a few inches before the door and Harry nodded in satisfaction at the imperturbable charm.

"Have a seat, my boy," the elderly professor said, gesturing to the filthy mess in front of him. They sat, staring at each other. "So, Harry, how was your holiday?" Dumbledore asked, trying to break the silence that was becoming even more uncomfortable by the second.

"Fine. Would've been better if I'd actually been allowed post this year, but hey, I suppose you can't have everything in life," Harry replied, somewhat dryly.

"Harry," the elderly wizard reproached, "you know that the letters could be easily intercepted."

Anger bubbled up in Harry like a volcano of rage at the elderly Headmaster's condescending tone, "that excuse doesn't work, Professor," practically spitting out the honorific, "because you know as well as I do that Ron and Hermione know nothing about the Order because they aren't members! If I wanted information about Voldemort, Sir, I would speak to you in person."

Dumbledore opened his mouth, presumably to explain himself, but Harry continued, an unusually cold tone coming from the boy.

"That leads me on to my next point. I need to join the Order. Or at least know what Voldemort's planning next. I need training as well; I highly doubt Voldemort's going to just let me hit him with a Tickling Hex. Unless, of course you think I can hug the man to death?" Harry's tone became gradually filled with scorn, even as he took on a slightly thoughtful look, "That might scare him to death but I'd still need to get close enough to do it."

Dumbledore was struck dumb by the youth's hostile tone for a moment but quickly brought up a reply, "Harry… yes, I can arrange that. But it may take a while. The new minister, though much more amiable than Fudge, still rebuffed my attempts to persuade him to lower the Reasonable Restriction for Underage Wizardry. I trust that you can wait until term begins for your training?"

Harry allowed a small smile to creep across his face, "Thank you, Professor. When was the new minister inaugurated? I cancelled my subscription to the Prophet because of the tripe they call news."

"Minister Fudge was removed from office on the 10th. His successor, a Mr. Scrimgeour, was elected on the 15th and has already proposed a large scale renovation of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in order to combat the Death Eater threat. I suggest you reactivate your subscription, Harry, because even in the most biased of articles, there does remain a slight semblance of truth" Dumbledore was right, Harry mused; the writers had to get their ideas from somewhere, seeing as they were obviously in no way intelligent enough to completely fabricate a half-way believable tale.

"I think I might just do that, Sir," at this Dumbledore smiled. Maybe there was still hope for his rather tenuous relationship with Harry.

"Moving on to less important matters; I'm sure that your friends will be very happy to see you and likely feel that I have done them an injustice by dragging you away so soon, so… "

Harry's face grew stony once again as he indignantly interrupted his once favourite professor, "I'm sorry; Professor, but you didn't drag me anywhere. I felt I needed to speak to you as much as you did me. Otherwise I would have simply walked on."

The wizened wizard seemed to deflate before Harry's eyes as the boy started to walk away. "I am sorry that things have become so strained between us, Harry. Tell me, how can I atone for my misjudgements?"

"Bring my Godfather back," was Harry's cold reply as he continued to walk with anger still bubbling inside of him, not turning to see a lone tear sparkling as it made it's way down Dumbledore's face.

Ron and Hermione were extremely shocked when the door at which they had been trying to listen was suddenly ripped open with such force that it was almost torn from it's hinges. They instantly noticed their best friends' eyes were glinting with barely controlled rage and his face was contorted in a fearsome expression of ice cold anger.

Ron was the first to pull back, "Muh...muh… mate… we didn't hear anything! Honest!" Ron seemed very anxious to escape, Harry noted, "I need to go… um… help mum! Yeah, that's it, I need to go help mum. See you later Harry!"

Harry's expression of hate broke down as he saw his friend scamper away. It instantly split into a grin and soon he was laughing so hard that he had to hold his sides to keep himself upright. "Did you see his face!" he chortled towards Hermione, who had adopted an expression of mixed shock and confusion. "What?"

"You mean you aren't angry we tried to listen?" she asked, muddled at the quick change.

The young man's face changed again, "yes, I am. But I know I'd have done the same thing. I guess it's just lucky Dumbledore warded the room or else I'd really be angry around now."

Hermione's face became ashen at Harry's words. He was right; she had broken his trust. "Harry," the girl exclaimed, "I didn't mean to! I just had to know what was so secret that you had to talk to the headmaster!"

"It doesn't matter what you meant, Hermione. You still did it," Harry finished, already beginning to walk away. "If you don't mind, I need to find a room. I don't particularly feel like staying with Ron. He'd probably lie awake all night wondering if I was about to get my revenge, the fool," he added fondly, with a look of reminiscence upon his face.

Harry settled down in a room on the top floor, it had been cleaned recently, if the lack of dust was anything to go by, but the bed was comfortable and it was away from the rest of the house.

'Was I too harsh?' he wondered silently. 'They were practically trying to spy on me!"

'Maybe I'm getting too paranoid.'

"Nah, I wasn't harsh enough,' he finished, allowing the void of sleep to claim him.


End file.
